


To Serve

by LastWill



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Love, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-20 04:52:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LastWill/pseuds/LastWill
Summary: Daenerys escapes to the Bay to decompress from the stress of ruling, her peace is interrupted by Ser Jorah.Chapter Two: Ser Jorah becomes incorrigible now he's had a taste of his Khaleesi...And Chapter Three: Ser Jorah isn't the only one who has noticed what a beauty Daenerys is...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I'm a little late to the funeral now Game of Thrones has ended...and...well...it didn't end fantastically in my opinion. But that's what fan fiction is for, right? 
> 
> I wanted to write some sexy stories with Ser Jorah and Daenerys, this one was short but sweet and I liked it enough to post. Enjoy!

Six Unsullied led by Grey Worm followed tightly behind her, their boots sinking into the sand as the weight of their armor pulled them down. She appreciated their protection but discovered her desire to distance herself from the pressures of ruling had extended to her need to break from the unwavering Unsullied’s surveillance. It was absolutely necessary to keep bodyguards within Yunkai’s city walls, even more-so when travelling through the streets, but the patch of beach she found herself on offered little threat.

Her companions were silent but she still longed to be rid of them and have space to think, to enjoy the bay without the presence of soldiers.

Daenerys looked behind her shoulder and held up a hand to halt Grey Worm and his small fleet. His expressionless face flickered towards her and awaited clarification at the gesture.

“I wish for privacy,” she explained over the sound of the waves hitting the sand.

His brow furrowed ever so slightly betraying his usual stoicism. Daenerys wasn’t a fool, she understood the constant threat of harm that surrounded her, but looking up and down the beach she was certain it would be quite a feat to sneak up on her unless her enemies would attack her from the water.

Grey Worm nodded, she saw a glimmer of distrust as his eyes swept over the shore. Sweat dropped from his brow, it was beginning to become hot, she had left for respite early in the day and the coolness of the morning had burned off, any other soldier would complain about the heat, but surely not Grey Worm.

She left her bodyguards on the white dunes, along with her shoes, and she pushed through the soft sand, her footsteps sinking to the ankle until she came upon a stripe of shells only to fade to dark brown sand and finally reach the foam of the water. The surf stained the ends of her draping white dress as she strolled along the shore.

And so she walked, and now Grey Worm awaited her dutifully in the distance becoming no bigger than her pinky finger. She was far enough that she couldn’t see his solemn expression which she deemed distanced enough to strip and not have him see her nakedness in detail... not that she feared his innocent gaze.

Taking a moment to find a dry patch of sand she moved to the white dunes and removed the clasps that kept her dress together. It fell off her body and she folded the soft fabric of her dress, tucking it in the sand before returning to the water to swim.

She never felt the bite of sun but the coolness of the water soothed her, she waded until the soft waves were lapping just below her breasts. She bent to immerse them herself, and just as she dipped to cool her head she heard a sudden cry.

“Khaleesi!”

The voice startled her and she gasped only to draw water in her mouth and sputter it out. She turned to watch Ser Jorah trudging towards her in alarm as she choked and ducked to hide her chest.

If he was a foe she imagined Grey Worm would have killed him long before he reached her, but obviously Jorah had talked his way past her privacy demands. It irritated her, and she was doubly irate as she struggled to clear her lungs in vain to berate him.

"Here Khaleesi, take my hand," he said mistaking her distress and reaching out to her.

She slapped his outstretched hand hard and he stiffened as if she had struck him in the face with her fist.

"Stop- go no further, I'm naked!" She scowled before another coughing fit overtook her.

Ser Jorah backed away and swayed in the water, his blue eyes searching her claim as she seethed.

"Why are you here!" She snapped harshly.

His brows knit together and he paused, clearly weighing the anger of her outburst.

"I saw you struggling in the surf-" he began to explain.

"Do you think I'd come all this way and defeat my enemies only now to drown in water barely above my navel?" She replied coldly.

"I- ...no," he replied sheepishly.

"I asked to be alone," she chided him.

"A misunderstanding, my Queen," he replied. "I beg you forgive me, I didn't mean to overstep my bounds."

"When I give an order you are not an exception to them, you take too many liberties," she replied. The anger she felt wasn't at his slight offense but a part of some bigger stressor of days past and her interrupted quiet. "Give me your shirt."

He didn't question her motives, heavy with water he fumbled with the fabric and pulled it off with some effort. She knelt in the water and pulled it over herself and without a beat began walking to shore, ignoring how her knight plodded next to her slinking like a kicked dog.

The shirt covered her bottom but only just, and in her silent fury she made no modest attempts to cover herself.

"Help me find my dress," she ordered him as they reached the shore.

"Yes, Khaleesi," he said.

She searched beside him as they combed the dunes, after a silent minute she grunted in frustration. She turned to ask Ser Jorah how far the tide could push her, but her thought was interrupted by a disturbing sight. She had overestimated his valor, she assumed he had at one point looked at her body, as he was twisting away from her in a feeble attempt to hide his erection.

"I don’t suppose you saw a dress on the dunes before rushing to fetch me like a child,” she asked.

“No, Khaleesi,” he replied tightly.

"Ser Jorah, why do you face away from your Queen when she speaks to you?" Daenerys asked.

She knew she was being cruel. There was a heated flush on his face that anyone would mistake from the sun, but it was born from embarrassment. He made a half-turn, still facing away from her, his eyes were pleading as he paused.

"I don't wish to make you uncomfortable with my gaze," he said.

"It looks as if you've already indulged," she replied coldly.

The red flush deepened and he wisely didn't meet her eyes.

"Forgive me, an undressed woman rarely fails to…stir me," Ser Jorah said choosing his words carefully.

She had meant to humiliate him and she had done it, but it hadn't given her any of the pleasure she anticipated, in fact she felt ashamed to have hurt him.

She had kept him at arm's length and still he pined after her. Every bit of tenderness towards him he latched onto and reveled in, if she carried their friendship into something deeper she knew she wouldn’t be able to rein it in, his desire for her would grow stronger.

But her desire to be touched and shatter the knot of stress that tightened within her was also strong, and she knew Ser Jorah would be more than willing to unwind it.

"Does it stir you to action...to serve me?" She asked calmly.

He was dumbstruck by her comment and cleared his throat. "Khaleesi?"

"You interrupt my rest and seem determined to decide my recreational activity," Daenerys stated as she stepped towards him and nodded at his erection.

His eyes shone with an eerie hunger as she stared at him, unblinking.

"Yes, Khaleesi," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.

"I won't release you," Daenerys stated. "After all, it's _you_ who ruined _my_ peace. Now I demand you give it back to me."

"Worry not, my Queen, I'm grateful to tend to you," he said breathlessly. "Tell me how."

"With your mouth," she said. He licked his lips. "Lay on your back," she commanded.

He sat so quickly that he kicked up sand when he hit the ground; the corners of her mouth flickered as she tried not to smile at his fervent obedience. He wiggled in the sand to level his body, his eyes squinting as he avoided looking at the high sun when he rested his head.

His shirt was the only thing covering her, she placed her feet on either side of his hips before taking measured steps and stopping at his shoulders. He had been looking at her face but only when she had stopped did his eyes wander to look up the shirt.

His breath quickened as he caught sight of her vulva. Drops of salty water dripped from the shirt and on his cheek, he turned his head and catching Daenerys' eyes he opened his mouth, the salt drops tapping on his bottom lip, his tongue ran over it in anticipation.

She gathered the hem of the shirt and brushed it above her hips, then knelt and leaned on her arms which she placed above his head to steady herself. She slowly pressed her vulva to his mouth, his nose buried in her pubic hair and he took a deep sniff before opening his mouth and placing a hot, wet kiss between her lips, gentle at first but soon turning sloppy and full of tongue. It sent a honeyed warmth below her and she moaned as the heat from his tongue spread through her.

His kiss goaded her into producing lubrication which he greedily sucked out of her, and then he began lapping her in quick, reaching strokes, his nose blowing hot air as he worked her with his mouth.

She was panting as he went through countless rounds of exciting her loins only next to thoroughly clean her out with his tongue, and all the while with an energy of fierce reverence.

She studied his face- he looked lost in ecstasy in that moment. His eyes were closed as he sucked her clitorus, drawing it out of the hood to be caressed between his lips. This wasn't just an act of sex for him, this was a kiss. He had been making out with her. The realization made her throb, and once more wetness flowed he released the kiss to slip low again to lick her clean.

Her orgasm was quickly approaching and she realized the sand wouldn't give her the leverage she wanted. Instead of gripping the earth she grasped the sides of Jorah's head, then threw her head back, moaning as she rode through her orgasam as he eagerly lapped it out of her.

She released him and feared she may had smothered him in her throes of pleasure, may have been too rough, but as she pulled away he had a rare smile.

"You served me well, Ser Jorah, all is forgiven," she said as she attempted to compose herself and get to her feet.

"I'm relieved to hear it, Khaleesi," he panted, fighting against a grin.

He was running a hand over the stubble of his beard, then he licked the palm of his hand, his eyes twinkling. "If only all apologies were so enjoyable."

"If all apologies were that enjoyable I would live with an even more constant threat of rebellion," Daenerys remarked steadily, yet shaken by his flirtations.

Ser Jorah chuckled.

“We really must find my dress, I can’t arrive at the gates in this state,” She said.

He got to his feet and made no attempt to hide his erection this time as they searched.

"Ah…” he started, breaching the silence. “Perhaps I may have the pleasure of serving you again in such a way, my Queen?" he inquired politely.

"Perhaps," she replied airily.

"You need only ask," he insisted quickly. "Anytime, come find me."

She made him no promises.


	2. To Thank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ser Jorah becomes incorrigible now he's had a taste of his Khaleesi...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't really placed where my fics fall on the GoT timeline because I mostly write for myself and I let stuff like that slide when it's just me. However, I have a higher standard when presenting my art to you Lords and Ladies, so for your sakes I tried to figure out when this fic could make sense.
> 
> I've decided this fic takes place around after Daenerys and co. (Ser Barristan, Daario, etc.) take Meereen, though the romance between Daario and Daenerys obviously has the pumps braked on it as well as an absence of Jorah's banishment. So it’s an AU around Season 4, episode 5-ish.

Daenerys couldn’t feign ignorance, she knew she had brought this predicament upon herself.

 

That's what she was calling it and 'predicament' was not an exaggeration- whatever self-restraint Ser Jorah had hiding his affections before their moment at the bay had ebbed. His smiles came more freely and were heavy with meaning, he walked and stood closer to her, often close enough to 'mistakenly' brush against her, and although no one found this shrinking of personal space unusual, per say, she was becoming uneasy people would notice his growing familiarity.

 

In addition to his growing attachment, there were occasions she caught his eye and he would lick his lips in a sultry fashion, though thank the gods he only did this when the attention of her entourage was elsewhere. She had been responding to this by turning her head and striking up a conversation with someone in the room in order to ignore the tension brought on by his burning desire.

 

Days of circumventing his flirtations began to wear down these hidden gestures, and as time passed his smiles and playfulness thinned but turned into something else- requests to talk to her alone. She had been rebuffing him repeatedly by insisting on other responsibilities, but still he persisted. Today was no exception.

 

“Khaleesi, I understand your time is valuable, but I was wondering if I may have a moment to speak with you in private,” Ser Jorah whispered quietly in her ear.

 

"I have a meeting with my council shortly," she replied. 

 

She was walking to the council chamber at that very moment, in fact, and she hadn't slowed her pace during his approach.

 

"Yes, I know, I'm on your council," he replied with an edge of impatience.

 

"Then I implore you to focus, these days we face many challenges and can't afford to give our enemies pause," she said.

 

"...Yes Khaleesi," he replied. "Another time then."

 

He had to know she was rejecting him, it had to have been near the fiftieth time she had brushed him off and he wasn't an imbecile. Missandei picked up on this faster than Ser Jorah did, it seemed, as she traded Dany a measured look after Ser Jorah fell behind.

 

" _So, they're beginning to notice his yearnings,_ " Dany thought to herself with dread.

 

Quite the predicament.

 

* * *

 

Daenerys laid on her goose feather mattress readying herself for a satisfying slumber after a wholly stressful day. She heard her handmaiden Missandei flittering about the room blowing out the candles only to crack open the door and speak to the Unsullied guard, her pleasant voice ringing as Dany began to drift to sleep.

 

A warm hand pressed her shoulder and Daenerys opened her eyes to see the shadow of Missandei's face in the dim.

 

"Forgive me, Khaleesi, for disturbing you," Missandei whispered. "But the knight, Ser Jorah," she recalled. "The guard says he's been pacing outside your door for an hour."

 

"What?" Daenerys hummed sleepily. She processed this abrupt bit of news and sighed. It seemed like this private chat Ser Jorah wanted wasn’t going to fade away like she'd hoped. "Tell him we'll speak in the morning," she sighed.

 

"Yes Khaleesi,” Missandei nodded, then hesitated. “I think you should also know...this is the second night he's attempted to send your patrol away," she whispered. "I know it's not my place to say, but I fear for his intentions, if he wishes a proper audience with you I believe he'd be more forward about it at an appropriate hour."

 

"Ser Jorah does not need to be more forward, he needs to be less so," Daenerys huffed, now fully awake. Missandei didn't respond and looked unsure how to react to the comment. Dany softened her tone, "Thank you for drawing this to my attention, I'll put an end to his disturbing behavior."

 

It was as Missandei had said, when Daenerys opened her door Ser Jorah was at the end of the hallway and on his way back to passing by her guard and bedroom. He had his hands on his hips and seemed deep in thought as he strolled, studying the floor, he hadn't even noticed her until she held out a hand to stop him passing.

 

He was pleased to see her and dropped his hands. "Good evening, Khaleesi," he greeted her.

 

"Why are you pacing in front of my door?" Daenerys asked bluntly. Her displeasure caused her guard to stiffen and grip his spear tightly.

 

"Sleep comes harder for me these days," Ser Jorah spoke his excuse. “When I seek peace I find myself here,” he said quietly.

 

He was giving her that look again, the one of devotion mixed with roguish flirtation. She suspected he was using the ruse of wishing to “speak to her privately” to deliver lines of romance spark something between them.

 

"I've been told you've tried to send my guards away," Daenerys said, choosing to ignore his flirtations. "Twice."

 

"Something's been lost in translation, I merely asked for the opportunity to see you in private," he replied. "Could we now…?"

 

His eyes flickered to the tensed Unsullied guard and back to her. She recognized he had cornered her, in a sense, but not wanting to fake any more excuses to reject him she sighed and turned to her soldier.

 

"Wait at the end of the hall," she ordered.

 

The Unsullied acknowledged her command by snapping his boots before departing. Daenerys' turned to Ser Jorah and raised her brow in question.

 

“You have your moment of privacy, speak,” she said.

 

“I know you haven't had much time to consider _recreation_ of late," Ser Jorah murmured, glancing at the Unsullied guard briefly and then back to her. "but I want to remind you that my offer to pleasure you whenever you desire still stands.”

 

“A reminder isn’t necessary, the reason I haven't taken you up on your offer is because I haven’t desired it," She replied in clipped tones, not bothering to keep her voice down.

 

He deflated under her words and shifted on his feet awkwardly.

 

“Khaleesi, I know I can give you pleasure if you only ask,” he pleaded. “If my mouth pleased you I beg you to make use of it again...and you must know it’s not the only part of me you may have your way with,” he said.

 

"Very well, but it’s your mouth I wish to command,” she replied firmly. “You will speak no more of our previous encounter, it’s memory is to be buried in the past and forgotten, and furthermore, you’ll cease these attempts to peddle further acts of ‘service’ to me," she said in a finalized tone as his brow knit in confusion. "Now I command your feet to leave me. Goodnight, Ser Jorah," she made to close the door but he leaned against it to stop her.

 

“Khaleesi, please,” his eyes reflected inner turmoil. “Have I offended you in some way?” he asked, “I don’t recall leaving you unsatisfied, but if I have-"

 

Her glare cut the words from his throat and he looked to the floor as he cleared the door's path.

 

"You interrupted my sleep and are making my handmaiden nervous, don't lurk outside my door again," she said.

 

He was wounded by her command but remained tight-lipped. She shut the door without another word.

 

"What did he want?" Missandei asked.

 

"What he always wants," Dany replied, making her way back to bed.

 

* * *

 

She rested her elbows on the stone ledge to look down on the city, below her was the harbor, the markets, the homes, all of it visible from where she stood, and yet she felt as if she were blinded. Every day she was taken by surprise by the lives of the people who came to her with their problems and threats- if she couldn’t bring Meereen to heel then why should Westeros bow? Although divided by a sea, she had no doubt her successes and failures were being recounted from the throne room in King's Landing, how Meereen fared now under her rule was a testament to her leadership.

 

Her thoughts shifted from Meereen to the confrontation she had with Ser Jorah. In her opinion she had dealt with him effectively, considering he had returned to shooting lovelorn looks behind her back and badgered her no longer for requests for privacy. It would take time before things were comfortable again between them.

 

Birds circled the Targaryen banner behind her and she grew tired of the view. She withdrew into the tower and began to descend the stairs, a jolt of alarm twisted in her stomach as her right foot swiped air instead of landing on the next step and she stumbled; she caught the next step awkwardly and twisted her foot, it was enough to topple her and she landed roughly on the stone at the bottom of the staircase.

 

Her knees were scraped and there was a painful weakness throbbing in her right ankle. She sat and removed her boot roughly, angry at herself for being harmed by her own carelessness. Light was flickering from a torch in the next room and she took great care not to put weight on her ankle as she hopped into the next room.

 

When she entered the room she bit back a sigh. Though grateful to find help quickly it was Ser Jorah who occupied the room. He was looking out the window wistfully and his hand rested on the pommel of his sword, unaware she had entered and he was being observed. There was little she could do to sway her fate, Ser Jorah would have to be the one she called upon for assistance. The sound of her undignified hopping caused him to turn, he scanned her and spotted she was only wearing one boot.

 

“Khaleesi, are you injured?” He asked.

 

“My ankle, I’ve had a minor accident,” she declared.

 

“Sit, let me see,” he said. He walked to her and got to knees.

 

She tried not to be over-sensitive to his attention, after all he was doing his duty to her by checking on her, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking it was awfully convenient he was so close-by after her fall. She pondered this as he cupped her heel in his hand and inspected her ankle.

 

“I’m fortunate you were here, Ser Jorah,” she spoke as he turned her foot carefully.

 

“I’m always here at this hour,” he replied evenly, possibly picking up on her hidden criticism. “It’s not broken,” he announced.

 

“It’s suffered worse abuse without lasting harm,” Daenerys remarked. “Help me to my quarters, and hurry, I don’t want to be seen limping.”

 

“Of course,” he replied, standing up and pulling her up with him.

 

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and moved forward to walk, but he scooped her into his arms with a powerful swing and carried her.

 

“There’s a lot of steps,” she warned.

 

“I’ll manage,” he replied, a challenge in his tone.

 

He carried her down numerous flights of stairs without a word, even rushing to do so to keep her from being seen. She was impressed when they arrived at her door but reminded herself not to expect less from a man so devoted to her.

 

“Thank you,” she said. “If the pain gets worse I’ll have a maester called.”

 

He carefully helped her to her feet at the door but left his arm wrapped around her. He had been breathing heavily from the exertion of carrying her down the stairs, but somewhere along his task their dynamic had shifted, and now he was looking down at her, his chest rhythmically pushing against her as he breathed, his hand pressing her body to his.

 

He swallowed thickly, and when she opened her mouth to speak his eyebrows raised slightly. 

 

“I’m perfectly able to...” she started, then stopped.

 

She had been meaning to deliver her thanks for his help and leave him, but she discovered with some surprise she didn’t want him sent him away. He bent his head closer to hers to better hear the words she had dropped, but even after she made no attempt to finish her sentence he lingered there, waiting patiently for her for a moment, only to turn his head and press a tender kiss on her mouth.

 

 She placed her hands on either side of his shoulders and pushed him away. A shadow of fear passed over him as he stood before her. 

 

“I shouldn’t have, it was wrong of me to touch you in that way, wrong to without your permission,” he rambled.

 

“Yes,” Daenerys said.

 

He nodded shamefaced with his hands squeezed into tight fists and turned to leave her.

 

“Ser Jorah,” she called to him sternly. “Where are you going?”

 

He turned to face her and stared.

 

“Did I dismiss you?” She asked.

 

“...No, Khaleesi,” he said, the same shadow of fear on his face.

 

“Help me into my room,” she ordered.

 

“Yes,” he replied, his expression full of both hope and caution.

 

She slipped her arms around his shoulders once more as he hoisted her off her feet before carrying her into the room.

 

“Now close the door,” she demanded.

 

He nodded and laid her down, then swiftly exited the room, closing the door behind him.

 

“...Come back, Ser Jorah!” she called to him loudly through the door with an incredulous smile. 

 

The door opened immediately and he returned, though his ears were burning red as he approached her.

 

“ _Stay here_ and close the door,” she told him, holding back a laugh.

 

“Forgive me, Khaleesi,” he apologized with an undercurrent of excitement. “I didn’t wish to presume.”

 

“I’ll make my desires more clear,” she said as he shut the door and returned to her. “Remove my clothes.”

 

“Yes, Khaleesi,” he replied.

 

His erection was making an appearance as he set to task pulling off her dress, he alternated between looking her in the eyes and looking at her breasts and vulva. Once she was naked she wrapped her fingers around the vivid blue cloth pinned around his neck and pulled him down. He lowered slowly until he was kneeling before her, one knee on the ground and the other bent. To keep from standing on her hurt ankle she draped her leg over his shoulder and rested it on his back.

 

"Did you hope to return here?" She asked him, opening her stance a little wider to give him full view of her.

 

"Every day a thousand times," he replied, his voice thick with longing as he stared between her legs.

 

"I know, you weren't very discreet in your desires," she drawled. "Hanging by my door, 'reminding' me of your offer to be my sex partner."

 

She held the cloth collar in her hand tightly in order to control him.

 

"You dreamed of this," she accused him. "Didn't you?"

 

"Yes," he admitted.

 

She rewarded him with a small tug toward her vulva but only allowing him to go so far before holding him still.

 

"...You relived the moment at the Bay in your mind, " she accused.

 

"Yes-!" he choked, it earned him another pulled inch closer.

 

"You pleasured yourself to that memory," she said.

 

"I did," he rasped. She raised an eyebrow and his eyes lifted to see her waiting. “Nightly,” he  confessed, she rewarded him with another pull. He was now close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath.

 

"And you could hardly go a day without begging an audience for another chance to have me!" she accused.

 

"Yes, Khaleesi, all true- please-!" He begged. She jerked him so close that the tip of his nose was now grazing her, and she kept him there to test his resolve, pleased at his restraint as she made him wait.

 

"...'Please' what, Ser Jorah?" she asked calmly after their long pause.

 

"Please, Khaleesi, permit me another taste!" he pleaded hoarsely. “Please-!”

 

She didn't torment him any longer as she yanked him to close the last bit of space between them. As she suspected the delayed gratification had been the right decision, her teasing had unraveled him and she felt this when his lips clumsily roamed over her, his sucking kisses desperate to fulfill them.

 

After his kisses he began to swipe his tongue inside her to feed his cravings. She brushed her free-hand over the nape of his neck and back of his head in encouragement- she could easily come this way, but his mouth bringing her to climax wasn't how she wanted to complete this night.

 

She pulled him away by his collar and he departed from her without protest, his obedience absolute as he looked into her eyes awaiting further instruction.

 

“Before I sit upon the Iron Throne I’ll sit upon you," she said. "What do you think of that?"

 

“I’d be my honor,” he replied, his eyes shining. “I’ve pledged myself to you, use me as you see fit."

 

“And so I will,” she promised, releasing his grip on him. “Take me to my bed.”

 

With her leg still draped around his shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her bottom and hoisted her up. She let out an astonished cry as he carried her a (thankfully) short distance to her bed, and then he placed her on it. 

 

“Undress,” she said. “I want to see what my knight has promised me.”

 

He freed himself of his boots and shirt, she nodded when he paused at his collar and he removed that too. Lastly was his pants, he disregarded them and stood before her naked, his prick was flushed pink and stood vividly against his pale white skin left untouched by the sun.

 

“Very good,” she said. She was amused to discover he was holding his breath which he released with relief at her approval. “Take your place on your back.”

 

The pain in her ankle was forgotten as she straddled him, she grasped his flushed shaft and he groaned with elation, becoming more vocal as she impaled herself on his cock. When she rolled her hips his chest rose sharply, she rested her hand on his chest only to feel his heart hammering under her palm.

 

“Breathe freely,” she spoke to him tenderly.

 

Once he seemed more calm she began to use his cock to indulge herself. She enjoyed taking charge of their sex, and he was in tune with her whims as she slowed and quickened. He gasped and she continued to ride him, the dizzying pressure between them building, she curled her fingers on his chest and scratched at his flesh through the light chest hair. Finally a sweet, powerful burst unleashed inside her, she abandoned all pretense of control and shouted a cry of ecstasy as he rocked within her in an attempt to prolong her orgasm.

 

Thin welts were beginning to rise on his chest and she brushed her hands over them in an attempt to soothe them down. He covered her hands with his own, but his touch was not enough to keep her steady on him; they were dampened by her orgasm and she slipped off him easily to roll by his side.

 

“Are you satisfied?" He asked as she caught her breath. "May I finish?” 

 

“Yes,” she responded. “Finish, you’ve done well,” she urged him, laying an affectionate hand on his arm. She then closed her eyes to rest against the pillows.

 

“Khaleesi,” he called to her again not long after she began to drift, the seriousness behind his tone roused her and she wondered if something had gone wrong, she opened her eyes to find him studying her intensely.

 

“Yes?” She asked.

 

“If I may be bold…" He struggled to make the request, swallowing hard. "May I have your permission to release inside you?” 

 

The question took her off-guard, she had assumed he would just masturbate after she’d orgasmed. The silence between his request and her absent reply lengthened and a muscle in his jaw tightened as he attempted to look unaffected by the lull. Her answer was important to him, she realized.

 

“I’ll allow it,” she replied.

 

"Thank you, Khaleesi," he said.

 

She spread her legs to receive him. He rolled on top of her and he slipped his cock back inside of her, continuing their previous gyrations.

 

“Thank me,” she ordered.

 

“Thank you, Khaleesi,” he replied.

 

“Thank me again,” she said.

 

“Thank you, Khaleesi,” he huffed, pushing into her.

 

“Again,” she demanded.

 

“Thank you- Khaleesi-!” he panted, his pitch rising as he became more excited.

 

“Thank me,” she repeated.

 

“Thank you- thank you- Khaleesi-!” he grunted.

 

“Do you know why you’re thanking me?” she asked as he pushed into her.

 

“Yes-! Yes-!” he gasped, on the cusp of having an orgasm. 

 

“Show me,” she demanded. 

 

She slapped her hand on the tight muscle of his ass and yanked her handful of flesh roughly to her with his next thrust, it was just enough to send him over the edge. He drew a deep breath in, howling.

 

The heat from his loins spilled into her and not long after he began to wilt, only to collapse on top. His face was buried in the side of her neck, just below the ear, and that’s where she felt him kiss her as he came down from his heightened state.

 

“Thank you, Khaleesi, thank you,” he repeated over and over like a prayer.

 

As the smell of sex hung in the air she knew it would not be easy to stave him off now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may feel a little hurried because I wrote it in two days, in my defense I didn't really plan on continuing the fic.
> 
> But I did it for you. Thank me.


	3. To Possess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ser Jorah isn't the only one who has noticed what a beauty Daenerys is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing a chapter and it was decent, but I steadily began to realize it didn’t match the tone of the previous chapters *at all*, so I had to gut it and put it aside as yet - another - unfinished fic. And the following chapter turned out more, I dunno, romantic than sexual, but I think it wrapped things up nicely.
> 
> It works out, though, because I'm making this chapter the last one before moving on to different stories.

A deep sniff was the first thing Daenerys heard in the dimmed room as she awoke from her nights rest. 

 

The lightweight blanket, suitable for the hot climate in Meereen, was the only thing that covered her naked body, and it was being dragged from her as the man in her bed sat up.

 

She turned herself toward Ser Jorah to see him watching her with a self-indulgent smile.

 

"Good morning, Khaleesi," he said so quietly it barely registered as a whisper.

 

"Good morning, Ser knight," she whispered back.

 

After their greeting he arched his back and pushed his elbows into the air before letting out a guttural yawn and flexing his fingers.

 

"Oh my, is that a wild animal in my bed?" Daenerys drawled. 

 

She had to stretch to reach him, and she stroked his chest gently with her fingers. He hummed and wrapped his hands around hers, leading her hand over his steady beating heart.

 

"Such a romantic creature," she said softly, removing her hand. Sleep had made his hair unkempt and he leaned into her touch as she brushed his hair back. "But disheveled."

 

"Disheveled?" He repeated. 

 

"Needs a bit of grooming," she teased.

 

"Careful now, taunting even the most gentle beast can leave one ravaged," he said smoothly as he gathered her in his arms, pinning her beneath his naked body and the bed.

 

“I’m well-aware, I’ve been prey to this beast before,” she replied as he began placing a string of gentle kisses over her face. “His appetite for me is astonishing,” she purred, then felt his cock stir against her hip, “and apparently growing.”

 

"And will he get to feed before the morning begins?" Ser Jorah asked in between kisses.

 

"Another time, another night," she decided, "My handmaidens will arrive soon to bathe and dress me, I don’t want them to panic as my body is...what did you say? Ravaged."

 

“You make it hard on me, Khaleesi,” he moaned. “But I obey your command.”

 

“Hurry, Ser Jorah,” she said. “I can hear my handmaidens running to the door.”

 

"Before I leave allow me to give you with a kiss worthy of carrying throughout the day," he suggested.

 

His lips were soft, a stark contrast to his scratchy beard, and he captured her bottom lip between his own before slipping in his tongue. He proved the aggressor as his tongue ran over her own, the sound of their kiss was satisfying as he pulled away, lifting himself off her.

 

She smelled his sweat on her skin, it mixed with something else, the scent of last nights lovemaking. Any shrewd handmaiden would recognize the musky aroma was not just her own, Daenerys was sure sending her lover away was a frivolous attempt to keep his night visits secret, but she wanted the relationship between them kept private for now.

 

"When can I call on you again?" Ser Jorah asked as he began to dress.

 

"I don't know," she replied.

 

"Within the week?" He asked.

 

She looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I don't have a day in mind, I’ll tell you when it's appropriate."

 

"But soon, yes?" He said.

 

"Yes," she replied to satisfy him.

 

“Until then, Khaleesi,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Daenerys learned today was a religious holiday, when she asked Messandei to explain the customs she was told it was a time for feasting and contemplation. Dany wasn't a very religious person, but she wanted to respect the cultures of the people within the city and expressed an eagerness to participate- thankfully their tradition manifested in an interesting way, three long tables were provided with the prepared foods for her and her advisers to eat, courtesy of the religious cooks.

 

It was midday and she was ravenous, apparently the holiday didn’t keep people away from her throne as they clamored for her attention. She felt she had earned a long lunch, and it wasn’t just her who took a vested interest in the banquet before her- Daario Naharis was at the other end of the tables, sneaking looks at her as she browsed.  

 

"'I've never seen half these foods," she admitted. "I don't want to be rude, but I'm more than a little scared to taste some of these… that one terrifies me most of all," she admitted with a nervous smile as she pointed to a bowl of black paste.

 

Daario tilted his head and grabbed a nearby spoon, scooping the paste up and popping it in his mouth.

 

"Did you know what it is," she asked him curiously.

 

"Nuh-uh," he grunted.

 

"Is it good?" She asked him.

 

"Nuh-uh," he hummed again, spitting the paste on the tablecloth.

 

"Don't spit out on the table," she gasped, unable to hold back a laugh.

 

"What next?" He asked, holding up the spoon.

 

"You want to keep eating?" She marveled.

 

"Yes, I'll be your official taste tester," he claimed, returning a beaming smile.

 

"Someone has already tasted all this food," she informed him.

 

"Not in front of you," he replied.

 

"And what have you done to warrant such a punishment?" She asked playfully.

 

"Plenty, Khaleesi," he replied before delivering her a roguish wink.

 

"Alright," she relented with a smile. "but spit it out on a plate if it's so horrid. We can’t have more food on the table than in dishes, the idea is not to offend people."

 

They slowly went down the table making use of Daario's tasting spoon. Though he claimed foods be a little salty, too sweet, and occasionally unpleasantly sour, nothing matched the horror of the black paste until they came upon a stack of yellow-and-gray rolled balls.

 

"What do you think that is? Plant or animal?" Daario asked her.

 

"No, put it out of your mind," she refused as she caught sight of the gray streaks. "I could never force a man to eat that, not even the worst criminal."

 

"Is our Khaleesi being culturally insensitive?" Daario said, squinting. “What will the common folk say when our Queen can’t recall the majesty of this...fine morsel... from a place of knowledge?”

 

"I'll take the fall, I'll claim ignorance, I'll say I believed it to be part of the decor-" she rambled.

 

Her words halted as he plucked a ball from the tray and shoved it in his mouth. She watched him in mounting amusement and terror as his handsome, smooth expression soured, the workings of his jaw slowing to a stop, his discomfort naked.

 

"I told you not to," she giggled.

 

She let out a scream as he snatched her plate and spat it out his chewed mouthful next her goat meat.

 

"No- not there-!" She laughed.

 

"Is there a problem, Khaleesi?"

 

They had been too absorbed to see Ser Jorah had entered the room, he was looking between the two of them, his shoulders were squared and his hand wrapped on the grip of his sword.

 

"No problem, we were just trying the exotic fare," Daenerys responded, trading a grin with Daario. 

 

"I see...sounds like fun," Ser Jorah replied with a stiff smile.

 

"Join us, here," Daario said, he twisted in place and grabbed the tray of yellow-gray balls, offering it to Ser Jorah with an expression of innocence. "Would you like one?"

 

Daenerys covered her mouth with a hand to hold back a poorly suppressed chuckle.

 

"No thank you," Ser Jorah declined looking politely annoyed. He picked up a plate and loaded it with some of the more familiar foods. “I’m only here to make myself a meal, I’m in the midst of creating some strategies to go over with Grey Worm and Ser Barristan for our next meeting.”

 

“Ah, well don’t let us get in the way of your brilliant work,” Daario remarked.

 

“I won’t let you get in the way,” Ser Jorah said, his stiff smile returning.

 

The air was thick with Ser Jorah's dislike, Daenerys was certain Daario could feel it hanging over them, but the man took it in stride as he fiddled with the tasting spoon between his fingers.

 

"I'll meet with you later, Ser Jorah," Daenerys said. She shifted herself between the men in a diplomatic effort to keep them apart.

 

“Enjoy your lunch, Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah replied.

 

“Thank-” 

 

Ser Jorah leaned in and planted a kiss on her lips before shooting Daario a smug look and departing. An embarrassed heat prickled up her neck as Daario stared at her in shock.

 

"Are you usually so affectionate with your advisers? Because if so, I want to point out that I've been skipped," Daario remarked.

 

“Excuse me,” she said to Daario, no longer able to look at him.

 

Her boots clacked loudly as she went after Ser Jorah, who she caught up with just outside the door.

 

"Why did you do that?" She snapped at his back.

 

She noticed he didn't look very surprised at her fury as he turned to face her.

 

"The same reason most people kiss, Khaleesi, to express love," he replied.

 

"And do most people kiss while Daario Naharis is watching?" she said. 

 

"Is there some reason I shouldn't kiss you in front of him?" He asked innocently as he shrugged his shoulders.

 

"Yes, you made me uncomfortable," she said hotly.

 

He appeared to be waiting for further explanation which she didn't provide him.

 

"I'm sorry," he said simply in response.

 

"Don't do it again," she snapped.

 

"Don't kiss you or don't kiss you in front of Daario Naharis," he asked.

 

"Both," she said angrily before storming off.

 

* * *

Daenerys and Ser Jorah saw each other every day, but she had developed a talent for avoiding him. He couldn’t have known how one peck on the lips would cause her such ire, and to be honest it surprised her as well how annoyed she was with him for doing it. 

 

But if Ser Jorah’s plan was to show Daario Naharis that her heart was claimed it had backfired- the kiss only seemed to fuel Daario’s presence among her. At first she thought it coincidental she ran into him every time she was coming and going, but her suspicions were confirmed when she purposely walked in a circle only to catch him behind her.

 

“What are you doing?” Dany asked him with a raised eyebrow.

 

He hid his surprise by pressing himself against the wall and running a hand through his thick hair.

 

“Chasing a dragon,” He replied.

 

“And what would you do with it once you’ve caught it?” She asked. 

 

He wiggled his eyebrows. 

 

“There must be some task of more deserving of your time,” Daenerys said.

 

“...I don’t think so,” he said softly, his eyes glittering. 

 

Her chest felt light and swelled as he held her in his flirtatious gaze.

 

“I really must be going,” Daenerys said.

 

“Maybe we’ll cross paths again,” Daario said, looking away from her. “Right here, tonight, after you’ve grown tired pleasing these strange people who grovel and scheme against you.”

 

“You say that as if you’re not the biggest schemer of them all,” she replied.

 

“Schemer? No, I haven’t any fear of making my motives known,” he said.

 

“I believe you,” she reconsidered.

 

“Well, I won’t be accused of being selfish with your time,” he said. “Enjoy your afternoon, Khaleesi,” he mimicked Ser Jorah’s gravelly voice, then he gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

 

She wanted to be cross with him but found herself charmed by his playful jab and kiss.

 

“That was awful," Daario scoffed. “Here, let’s do it properly.”

 

She closed her eyes when he bent over to kiss her, the absence of sight allowed her to really feel him; his kiss was heated and he smelled of spice, and the scent aroused in her a longing for more as he pulled away from her.

 

She opened her eyes and saw a similar longing had gripped him.

 

“Here, tonight,” he reminded her.

 

“Tonight,” she repeated.

 

* * *

 

Daario’s kiss lingered on her lips, she tried not to appear double-minded as she met with people, one by one, and sorted through each discourse. Anticipation for tonight’s activities exhausted her faster than usual, she turned to Messandei after closing a negotiation between a farmer and an olive merchant. 

 

“How many more?” Daenerys asked.

 

“Three left, Khaleesi,” Messandei replied. “Next is Jorah the Andel, he requests an audience with you.”

 

“Ser Jorah?” she repeated, frowning.

 

“He went through the proper channels,” Messandei remarked.

 

Dread filled her, the unusual formality hinted to him causing some sort of spectacle. Still, she could hardly refuse him, which she supposed was the reason why he had gone through the trouble of arranging a consultation.

 

“Send him in,” Daenerys said, sitting tall in her seat.

 

She hadn’t had much contact with him for days, but he proved to be presentable and well-groomed as he arrived. Whatever he wished to speak about he seemed to be wanting to be taken seriously.

 

"Was it necessary to schedule a time in court to speak to me?" She asked.

 

"I had to be certain I'd be heard," he replied as the tip of his boots hit the bottom stair.

 

"Very well, approach," she replied, waving him up.

 

He took the steps to the middle platform and grasped his hands behind his back.

 

"Can we have privacy?" He asked. "This conversation is of a personal nature."

 

She was wary for his requests for privacy and guessed the direction the conversation would lead from it. Their relationship wasn’t something she wanted all to be privy of, especially now that she seemed to be leaning towards a tryst with Daario. Thus, his desires for privacy coincided with her interests, she nodded to Messandei and the request was granted, it wasn’t until they were alone that Ser Jorah spoke.

 

"I have a problem, Khaleesi, one that only you and I may solve," he said.

 

"This had better not be a sexual proposition, I put aside this time to settle disputes, not indulge you," Daenerys said.

 

"I hold your duties here in the highest respect, please have a little more faith in me," he said. 

 

"...You're right, I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," she apologized. "Please proceed."

 

"I ask for your time because I have a complaint about us that I wish to be considered," he stated.

 

"You're unhappy?" She questioned.

 

"I'm not unhappy with the time we've had together, on the contrary, I relish it, it’s the infrequency of your touch that leaves me unsatisfied," he said. "Some men are made of steel more than flesh, they weather through several long periods of inactivity with their beloved, but I'm a loving man and I need love regularly in return."

 

“Am I understanding what you’re asking? You want more sex?” Daenerys questioned.

 

"I'm in a precarious position, other men would fulfill this need by visiting a brothel, but I'm unable," he continued.

 

"Why?" She asked.

 

"Khaleesi," he started, astonished by the question. “I'm faithfully yours.”

 

"I see," she replied. "Well now you've put me in a precarious position by suggesting I'm responsible to fulfill your sexual needs."

 

"That's not my intention-" he started.

 

"But that's what you've just told me, unless I've misunderstood," she replied.

 

"Please, Khaleesi," he sighed. "I only ask for more love shared between us."

 

"Are you asking for more love or more sex?" She asked.

 

"Sex is one expression of love," he reasoned. "One I confess I regard highly...but I am asking for more of both, yes."

 

"And you're a loving man," she mused.

 

"...Yes," he replied, studying her.

 

"I'll contemplate what you've told me today and consider your request," she said. "Will that be all, Ser Jorah?"

 

His fingers fiddled with the pummel of his sword, she could see his tongue running over his teeth; he was uncomfortable, she realized.

 

"Is there something else you want to address?" She pressed.

 

"Were you upset when I kissed you in front of Daario Naharis because you're attracted to him?" He asked.

 

The question shocked her, as did his aggressive tone.

 

"I hadn't thought of it," she replied evenly.

 

"You don't think about being attracted to someone, you either are or aren't," he reasoned.

 

"I was upset because you were being abrasive," she said.

 

"Alright, I was being abrasive," he said dismissively. "Are you attracted to Daario Naharis?"

 

"I'm not going to answer that," she said. He opened his mouth to respond but she cut in before he could get a word out. “It's none of your concern who I find attractive and who I don’t, you don’t own my mind or my heart."

 

“I hope I have some hold on both,” he said calmly.

 

“Send Messandei back in, please,” she ordered him.

 

* * *

 

The pub was full, and Daario was burning daylight as he celebrated conquering the interest of the lovely Daenerys. He wasn’t drinking much, he wanted to keep a clear head for tonight’s affair, but he was enjoying the liveliness of the crowd. A drunken roar greeted a bystander that left the pub door open, a faux pas in this establishment and it revealed him as a foreigner.

 

Daario watched the man and clenched his teeth as he recognized the plodding gait.

 

“Ser Jorah Mormont,” Daario huffed as the scruffy-faced knight approached him. “Here to awkwardly steal kisses from the maidens?”

 

“I only kiss what’s mine,” Ser Jorah said. “And I suggest you do the same, for your sake.”

 

“She  _ hated _ that kiss, or didn’t you notice? I certainly did,” Daario replied. He had bought a drink and twirled the glass with his fingers. “Are you going to hack me to pieces because our queen has standards?”

 

"Not high enough, I won't stand idly by while you seduce her," Ser Jorah hissed.

 

“No, you won’t be idle,” Daario said. “you’ll stomp through any pub with this sad act of bravado as she slips from your arms and into mine,” Daario laughed in his face causing Jorah to steel even further in his rage. "Oh don't give me that look, I’m one of the few who can sympathize.”

 

“Is that so?” Ser Jorah seethed.

 

“Absolutely, it’s easy to see why you’re so  _ desperate _ to keep her; not only is she special, her beauty is unmatched," Daario said. "And you...well...she's starting to understand you're neither of those things. How could you measure up? It’s a heartbreaking affair..."

 

"I measure up more than enough, and it's not you I'm concerned doing the measuring," Ser Jorah growled.

 

"Maybe, but you haven't been up to her standard lately, have you? That's why you're here, to convince me to stifle the passion I ignite in her roaming heart," Daario said, finally taking a sip of his ale. "She's the Mother of Dragons, she won't be kept or tamed, especially not by her gloomy, aging-"

 

Ser Jorah snapped his first punch to Daario's stomach, and the second one to his chin. It could have been either drink or experience that gave Daario the presence of mind to recover from the attack, but he swung a cutting elbow at Ser Jorah’s cheek.

 

Their brawl was over just as quick as it started when the patrolling Unsullied guards swooped in with weapons drawn.

 

* * *

 

"What...happened," Daenerys seethed, pronouncing each word clear with her displeasure.

 

She was seated on her throne as they looked up to her, visually shamed.

 

"I apologize, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah uttered.

 

"I don't want apologies, Ser Jorah, what I want is an explanation as to why two of my closest allies- men who are notorious for leading my armies and keeping order in my city- were seen by the public pummeling each other like drunken miscreants," she seethed. "I ask again... what happened?"

 

Daario let out a slow breath as he matched gazes with Ser Jorah.

 

"Someone answer," she commanded, her patience gone.

 

"We had a disagreement," Ser Jorah replied tightly.

 

"I hope you don't think me such a fool that I couldn’t surmise a disagreement occurred- what was your disagreement?" Daenerys asked.

 

"It was about you," Daario replied fearlessly. "Ser Jorah doesn't like you enjoying yourself with people who aren't him, least of all if it's with me."

 

"That's not true," Ser Jorah snarled. "Khaleesi, I confronted Naharis to question his motives."

 

"And what has he done that you question his loyalty?" Daenerys said.

 

Daario crossed his arms and rounded on Ser Jorah, a smug look on his face as the knight fidgeted uncomfortably.

 

"Perhaps we can speak alone-" Ser Jorah suggested.

 

"No, you'll answer me now, why do you accuse Daario of malicious intent?" She demanded.

 

"...I find myself unable to procure an answer," he replied, looking to the floor.

 

"Who attacked whom?" Daenerys asked.

 

"I threw the first punch, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah replied.

 

"Uniting this city is my greatest challenge,  you are my appointed leaders and act on my authority, you humiliated yourselves and me with your petty squabbling," she said. "Go now, and don't ever undermine me again."

 

"Yes Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah and Daario replied.

 

* * *

Night at long last. Messandei had recombed and braided her hair, she had a second bath and she selected a lightweight dress to wear. If Daario was waiting for her, she was determined to make it worth his while. 

 

She exited her quarters and began the long journey towards their meeting place, her heart was pounding but it wasn’t because of the many stairs she had to traverse.

 

“Khaleesi-”

 

She gasped and jumped as a hand reached out to her. The air rushed out of her when she spotted Ser Jorah.

 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said softly. "I want to explain myself, to answer why I confronted Daario."

 

"I already know," she replied coldly.

 

She was angry with him because she didn’t want him to follow her to Daario’s meeting spot, and she knew he wouldn’t leave her alone until she dismissed him. Also, she was almost positive he had been following her.

 

"You have a right to be angry, I shouldn't have struck him, I lost my temper, but I-" Ser Jorah started.

 

"I’ve told you I have no desire to discuss your shortcomings," she interrupted him.

 

"Khaleesi, please listen to me," he said. He grasped her shoulder and wrenched away, infuriated by his touch.

 

"I’ve told you twice now that I  _ don't _ want to listen to you,” she raged. “And furthermore, I don’t want to hear your pathetic pleas for sex, or your jealous ramblings involving Daario Naharis," she hissed. "I'm not your lady, Ser Jorah, I am your Queen, and if there was ever a man who needed to make use of a brothel it's you- I release you of your faithful oath to me, go and satisfy your lust and do it quickly, you’re once again humiliating yourself."

 

His eyes became glassy from the pain and savagery of her harsh rejection.

 

"I'll trouble you no further," he said quietly.

  
  


* * *

 

“You are beautiful,” Daario told her, his eyes sweeping over her. “Enough to make the gods jealous.”

 

“You're too generous,” She replied. There was a cut on Daario’s chin where he had been punched. She swiped it gently with her thumb.

 

“I’m sorry about the fight with Ser Jorah,” Daario apologized.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied. She had just had one with him herself and it was heavy in her heart.

 

“Fair enough, I don’t want to think about it,” Daario said. “I have other things on my mind,” he said, his hand brushing against her cheek. “You asked me what I’d do if I ever caught a dragon...come with me and see?”

 

He held her hand and pulled her along, she hoped they were close to his room, the idea of running into anyone, especially Ser Jorah, embarrassed her. She hadn’t meant for things to progress so quickly between herself and Daario, but she reminded herself that there was no need to hold back on her inhibitions, she wasn’t Ser Jorah’s lady, no matter how many times she had shared herself with him.

 

Thankfully they arrived to his quarters without any uncomfortable ordeals. She willed herself to relax as he slipped off his shirt and held her against his sculpted chest before pressing his lips to hers.

 

The joy Daario’s kiss brought earlier in the day seemed to have withered. She found herself wanting to be thrilled by his touch more than she was.

 

" _ Perhaps I'm nervous or maybe even guilty to be kissing another man, _ " Daenerys thought. The dejected face of Ser Jorah appeared in her mind and seared itself there, it took tremendous effort to push him out of her head and get back into the moment. “ _ I was too hurtful, _ ” she thought regretfully, her efforts dashed within an instant.

 

Daario hands were slipping over her breasts, his fingers rubbing her nipples into peaks as he kissed the corner of her mouth.

 

" _ His beard isn't as scratchy as Ser Jorahs,"  _ she thought. " _ Nor his kisses as forceful _ .  _ No, not forceful, passionate. When Jorah kisses me it’s with his entire body, he tries to awaken mine with his... _ "

 

She stopped herself from finishing her thoughts, it seemed wrong to think of Jorah Mormont while being in Daario’s arms. He lifted her with ease and she was silent as he carried her to his bed.

 

" _ Whatever I wanted, it isn't this, _ " she finally admitted to herself. " _ I can't seem to shake free of Ser Jorah. _ ” her heart sank as Daario’s hands slid over her thighs. “ _ I've treated him so poorly, I took advantage of his eagerness to love me, I should go to him now and- _ "

 

"Is everything ok?" Daario whispered, interrupting her thoughts.

 

"I think I need some air," she said as she slipped off the bed, "Wait here."

 

She stepped out on his balcony and was glad he didn't chase after her. She wanted time to compose a rejection, although she knew she had the right to refuse him at any point, she still wanted to preserve his ego.

 

The Great Pyramid in which they resided was on a slant and she could see the flickering light of a torch burning on the balcony below her. A wild thought gripped her, she could climb down and retreat from Daario’s passions.

 

She could only see half the balcony from where she stood, but when she leaned over the ledge she had a better view- that was when she discovered she wasn’t alone.

 

Her knight, the one she had left so crestfallen, was inspecting his heavy breastplate. His brow was furrowed in concentration, he hadn’t seen her.

 

"Ser Jorah," she called him as loudly as she dared.

 

It hadn’t been enough, he didn't hear her, she would have to call him again but she feared crying out too loudly least it rouse Daario to her side.

 

She searched the balcony for something to drop and spotted pebbles in the weak part of the mortar. Gathering up a handful she rushed to the ledge and hurled each of them on the ground below, making loud snaps.

 

It had been enough to break his concentration, she watched Ser Jorah inspect the pebbles curiously before looking upwards. 

 

“Khaleesi?” He called to her, cautiously.

 

"Ser Jorah, I’m relieved to see you," she admitted. He stared at her and she felt unease at his lack of response. “I know this is unconventional, but please help me down, I need to speak to you.”

 

Daenerys judged his balcony to be four meters from hers, the drop would be painful but not life threatening if she landed incorrectly, maybe a broken leg at the worst.

 

"Are you in danger?" He asked.

 

"No," she said.

 

"Then I must decline," he replied.

 

"Decline?” She asked, amazed at his reply. He had never done that before.

 

"Why are you trying to flee Daario Naharis' room?" Ser Jorah asked her.

 

"How did you know this is his room?" She asked sheepishly.

 

"All the officers have quarters on the north side," he informed her. "And ...I've found him drunk and pissing on my balcony more than once."

 

She wondered just how long the two of them had been feuding, it was possible Ser Jorah’s dislike for Daario was a longstanding affair without her even knowing.

 

"I believe this is a conversation better suited on level ground," she said. “You wouldn’t happen to know where a ladder is-”

 

"Are you in danger?"

 

"I told you I'm not," she replied.

 

"Then I remain steadfast in refusing you," he repeated.

 

"You can’t refuse me, I’m your Queen-"

 

"-But not my lady," he said. "Because you're my Queen I'm sworn to protect you if you're in peril."

 

“You know you have to do what I command even if I’m not,” she told him dryly.

 

“So be it, Khaleesi, I’ll send myself to the gallows at first light for treason,” he promised.

 

She tensed as he began to walk back into his room.

 

"Stop!" She shouted.

 

She was glad he obeyed her and paused to look up at her once more.

 

"I am in danger," she said, swallowing her pride. 

 

“And this threat?” Ser Jorah asked.

 

"The threat is losing my dearest friend and lover,” she said. She was disappointed to see her words didn’t stir him, he merely continued to watch her with the same detached disposition. “You trusted me with your heart and desires and I abused them, I also dismissed your insecurities which…," she sighed, "as you can see weren't unfounded. You’re right, I was attracted to Daario... until, well, all I could think of when he touched me was how much I wanted him to be you.”

 

“It seems he’s left you unharmed,” Ser Jorah replied, almost pleasantly. “Have a good night, Khaleesi.”

 

“I haven’t left you unharmed, have I,” she said, raising her voice in a desperate plea to keep him there. “You were right, taunting even the most gentle beast can leave one ravaged. You are both kind and loving, and I mocked your desire to deepen that love, I deserve your indifference but know it’s left my heart torn.”

 

She despaired when he disappeared from her view. She supposed she couldn't expect him to forgive her so quickly, her barbs must have still remained fresh in his mind. She was about to return to Daario when she caught sight of Ser Jorah's head and a tall wooden chair he was dragging behind him. A sigh of relief escaped her when he placed it just below her and stood upon it.

 

“Take your time, Khaleesi, don’t rush,” he told her quietly, his hands reaching out to her.

 

She hoisted herself up and swung her legs over the ledge. Now she faced Daario's room, she could see he was naked and pouring a generous glass of wine for himself and for her, pacing back and forth in the candle-lit bedroom awaiting her return.

 

Ser Jorah fingers brushed the back of her thighs as she lowered herself, she felt guilty for dragging him into such a ridiculous escape but thankful he was willing to humor her.

 

 "Climb down as far as you can," he instructed her.

 

She was resting on her stomach and elbows and she strained as she slid off the edge, her arms becoming outstretched and her legs dangling. 

 

“I’ve got you,” Ser Jorah grunted, grasping her tightly around the middle.

 

 She felt his face pressed against the small of her back before he slid her toward the ground- it was a rough landing but she was grateful to be on his balcony without incident. She feared the chair would topple over as Ser Jorah handled her, but he remained balanced before quickly stepping off it.

 

"Thank you," she said as he loomed over her.

 

He nodded quietly.

 

“Can you forgive me,” she whispered.

 

He bowed toward her and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She meant to tell him how she hadn’t gotten fully physical with Daario, but was stricken mute by his smoldering gaze.

 

Of course he was going to forgive her, she was in no danger of him abandoning their love, at least, that is what she believed as his hands rested on her hips and he pulled her so their waists were touching.

 

“Khaleesi?” 

 

Daario had finally grown impatient with her absence and was looking for her. Ser Jorah lifted a finger and pressed it against her lips, his eyes reflecting impish mirth as Daario’s footsteps carried across his balcony, searching for his missing prize. 

 

Ser Jorah used his waist to gently lead her, she was walking backwards and allowed him to steer her into his room until her calf hit the edge of his bed. He unbalanced her by bumping her with his pelvis so she fell into his bed.

 

She used one hand to spread the cloth covering her breasts and reveal her hardened nipples. He unfastened the tie on his tunic and pulled the collar down to show her his lightly haired chest. She smirked and snaked her hand between her legs, his palm traveled to the bulge at his groin, she used the tips of her fingers to lightly stroke herself.

 

His heavy breathing betrayed his calm demeanor. He mimicked her teasing touch, his fingertips obediently running over his straining cock with the lightest brush.

 

A strong knock on the door spoiled their romantic game.

 

“Stay here,” Ser Jorah said.

 

He took a moment to rearrange his privates to hide his excitement as best as he could, Dany also covered her breasts least she be discovered. The knock became more impatient as Ser Jorah strolled towards his door. When he opened it she saw he stood broadly to hide her. 

 

"Ser Barristan, Naharis," Ser Jorah announced loudly for her, feigning surprise. "What can I do for you at this hour?"

 

“We’ve come to conscript your help, the Queen is gone,” Ser Barristan informed him somberly. 

 

“Oh?" Ser Jorah mused. "Where was she seen last?” he asked, curiously unconcerned in comparison with their alarm.

 

“She was with me in my room,” Daario replied haughtily. “She stepped out to the balcony and then disappeared.”

 

“You mean she jumped off the balcony to escape you?" Ser Jorah mocked him. "You must have made her uncomfortable, perhaps you should wear a less revealing shirt."

 

“Ser Jorah, our Queen is missing,” Ser Barristan said, frowning in disapproval at his flippancy.

 

Daenerys wasn’t sure she wanted to make her relationship with Ser Jorah public, but unfortunately her adviser’s panic forced her to reveal herself- she realized things could quickly spiral out of hand if everyone was searching for her.

 

“There's no need to be alarmed, I’m here,” Daenerys announced.

 

Ser Jorah’s smile widened at their mounting confusion, and more-so at the implications of her being found in his quarters.

 

“Ser Barristan, let's discuss those strategies for presentation tomorrow afternoon," Ser Jorah said, breaking their stunned silence. “I suspect I’ll be too preoccupied to meet in the morning."

 

"Alright then," Ser Barristan replied, his lips tight. "Happy to see you safe, your Grace," he nodded at Daenerys and left Daario standing by the doorway.

 

It wasn’t Ser Jorah’s smug face that Daario was focused on, he was looking past the old knight’s shoulder and at Daenerys. His debonaire disposition suffered under the slapdash state of his dress, the untidiness of his hair, but mostly it was his disappointment he wore poorly. 

 

“Next time please fake some engagement," Daario said to her. "Spare us both the loss of dignity."

 

"But she  _ is  _ presently engaged,” Ser Jorah responded joyfully. “Farwell, Daario Naharis," he said, shutting the door in the man’s face.

 

"It's perverse how much you enjoyed that," Daenerys sighed as she sat back on the bed.

 

"Not as much as I'm going to enjoy you tonight," he said. He put his knee on the bed at her side. "And tomorrow morning," he continued, cupping his hand behind her head. "And many days after."

 

His kiss was sweet on her lips and it relaxed her into his embrace. He withdrew from her to rest his chin atop her head and squeeze her tight to himself.

 

“I’ll say his name once more and never again tonight,” Ser Jorah said. “but I must know, why did you choose my bed over Daario Naharis’?”

 

"You are a loving man," she replied. She paused. “And I am your lady.”


End file.
